An Unintended Holiday: Michael Rickers Series
by Merchant Navy Officer
Summary: As Michael Rickers returns to sea to continue his officer training on the Far East - European trade route, Team Prime must face the shadow of a rising darkness. But as the team face great challenges and struggles, Michael finds himself in a place he never intended on going and possibly not leaving alive.
1. Chapter 1

_"For nearly two hundred years, piracy was believed to be a thing of the past. In that time international trade has flourish with nations being able to transport goods, across the worlds oceans virtually unchallenged._

 _Ninety percent of world trade travels by sea. Our food, our fuel, our clothes, our cars, our electronic, virtually everything we need or use comes to us by ship. International piracy has meant that certain ship's insurance premiums have gone up ten fold. That means the cargo that they carry have gone up in price too. You may have the romantic image of a pirate like that of Jack Sparrow, but in reality they murder, kidnap and maim"_

 _Ross Kemp, 2009_

* * *

Warsash, on first looks it is like any other village, one that lies between Southampton and Portsmouth. Lying on the eastern side of the mouth of the river Hamble, right at the heart of the UK's sailing capital with easy access to the Solent. The river lined with mansions and private berths for the hundreds and hundreds of yachts. It was safe to surmise that this is a wealthy area in the county of Hampshire.

But what else made this place special was the fact it is the home to one of the oldest nautical colleges in the UK which itself steeped in history. Most notably being the place where the majority of the landing crafts of D-Day sailed from for the beaches of Normandy. Established as the Southampton School Of Navigation, now known as Warsash Maritime Academy.

During its history buildings were slowly added to the campus with the original few buildings built at the start of the 20th century that now house the administration department and senior officer accommodation right up to the library built at the turn of the 21st century and everything in-between. Another striking feature to the campus is the fact it is essentially split in two halves. One half being on the higher ground where the accommodation, admin and classrooms were located. While the lower half being right by the river bank was primarily made up of practical learning areas such as the fire fighting school, engineering block and seamanship training room and lifeboat pier.

Also in the lower half was a prefab building full of classrooms named after the very first female cadet to attend the college. The door to the ground room main room had a sign on display.

"Do Not Disturb: Exam In Progress"

The twenty odd cadets that made up Michaels class were hard at work, some seated while others including Michael were standing behind their desks. The whiteboard at the front showed it was a chartwork exam and they had two hours to answer the seven questions in their paper.

By now Michael was on question three and was looking at the chart on the table. Though the paper was thinner than regular chart paper. Magenta letters in the corner in big capitals: NOT TO BE USED FOR NAVIGATION with a note on the yellow coloured land stating that items had either been added moved or removed for training purposes.

The question itself was easy to understand. It starts with a set of coordinates and asks the candidate to correctly find the right course to steer and speed to make to get to a position defined by being a certain bearing and distance from a known point.

So Michael got down to it. First he had to mark the start position, like others in his class he broke away from the traditional British method of using parallel rules and instead used a set of navigation protractor triangles. Marking off the latitude and longitude on the side of the chart he transferred the lines towards where they intersect each other and over the cross he marked it with a circle denoting that it as a fix plus he wrote down a time next to it. Then using a compass and pencil he drew an arc of the given distance from the known point and again with the triangles drew a bearing from it. Where it crossed the arch he marked that point with a small triangle showing it as an estimated position.

Drawing a line from one to the other now he had the course he had to achieve to get to where he needed to be. However he wasn't done yet. He had to take into account the tide. So back to the plain piece of paper he took the tidal data on the chart and with interpolation worked out how strong the tide was going and which direction. Again he had to interpolate so he knew exactly how far he would be set off for the amount of time it would take to get to the destination. Then after that he drew on the chart another line from the start position, the tidal vector. Then from the end of that line to the destination he know had the course he would have to steer.

Just one more bit to go, the speed required. Using dividers he measured the length of the third line he drew and again interpolating he was able to deduce the speed needed to get the final position at the correct time. After he was finished he drew a neat box on his answer sheet and put in his course to steer and speed required. Plus a habit that his class started was to put their answer on a scrap piece of paper to keep so he could remember his answer. He rechecked his work and seemed happy with it.

Time past on and slowly some packed up their belongings, leaving their charts and answer sheets on the desk and quietly walking out. Some were busy working while the rest did what Michael were doing, sitting and waiting. He was finished, all done and ready to leave at any time. But he stayed where he was. Advice was given before that if you finish early, it's worth staying for whole exam because you might suddenly realize you made a mistake. So Michael was doing just that, constantly and meticulously going over everything, but nothing struck him as being off and he seemed happy about. The clock on the wall ticked on.

"And that's your time up" the exam invigilator announced "put your equipment down, make sure your student number is on both your answer sheet and chart and remain silent till they are all collected"

As the papers were collected people were sharing glances at each other, gauging their reaction. Some seemed pleased while other looked like they knew they messed it up. Michael was of the former.

A few minutes later and they were all outside discussing.

"What you course did you get in three Michael?" Asked a fellow classmate.

"Zero-three-one" Michael answered checking his piece of paper. Other started saying the same thing, a degree more or less.

"Well I got Seventeen knots for that"

"Seventeen and a half"

"Damn" Michael said "I got fifteen knots"

"Oh well, you only binned a few marks. No big deal"

"Yeah but I but I wasn't to sure on the talkie talkie question at the end. I'm sure I got the academic requirement, but the MCA requirement? Well I'm not too hopeful on that"

As the class talked amongst themselves, both Michael's and Warren's phones pinged at the same time.

"You got a text from the CLO?" Michael asked as he checked his phone.

"Lucky guess" Warren replied.

The text which had been sent from the cadet liaison officer had asked them to meet him at his office at the upper half of the campus. They trotted up the hill and over the building furthest over towards the coast with a prime view of Southampton water.

The CLO greeted them in and asked them to take a seat. Already in the office were two other cadets Michael knew to be engineer cadets and another young man in his early twenties wearing glasses. He had the physic the same as that of a long distance runner, and dress very casually. Not a cadet then.

"I would like to introduce you all to Miles Kneeshaw. He's a media studies student from the East Park Terrace campus" The CLO said "And Miles, these are the four cadets who you'll be working with. Two deck cadets Michael Rickers and Warren Stitfall and two engine cadets Billy Rutter and Damon Ronson"

Miles shook hands with the four exchanging pleasantries.

"Well Miles here is putting together a project piece for his final assessment which is to make a promotional film. So the university approached Seawave Maritime Agencies and they agreed that he would do one for them regarding their cadet sponsorship program. So what does this mean to you? Well your company wants to promote its cadet sponsorship program so what better way than to promote training than by having a film of their own students being done by another student"

"I'm sorry sir, but I still don't follow how does this involve us?" Billy asked.

"Simple, the film will revolve around you four, do a few interviews about yourselves, where your from how'd you get here and where you hope to be in the future that sort of stuff. Then he'll join with you on the ship and film you as you go through your onboard training"

"Wait, so we're going to be on the same ship then?" Warren asked excitedly.

"That's right, it's all been arranged. You'll be joining the Patagonian Star"

The four cadets looked at each other with excitement, they knew that ship was the flagship for the container fleet in the company, nearly brand new and had all the mod cons.

"So these interviews, when do we start them?" Michael asked.

"Well I don't get the equipment till next week and as I understand you're all in the middle of doing your exams. So it would be best till you've finished them or when you want to that is" Miles answered.

The cadets agreed to the idea and they talked a bit more on the finer details of what so to be expected. Him telling them what he hoped to achieve and they talked a little about what being at sea. Soon both parties got to know each other just a little better then half an hour later they all shook hands again the cadets left.

"So come on Mike, what do you really think about it then?" Warren asked as the two of them walked down the road heading from the collage to the centre of Warsash village.

"Well I don't have a problem with it if that's what your wondering"

"Don't you think it might be a bit of a distraction?"

"Look, it's going to be a four, five month tour. That's a lot of time to get things signed off. Besides even if we didn't have this chap onboard filming, there are still lots of distractions. I'm pretty sure he'll want us doing various tasks for the film so if anything we'll probably get more done this way. So no I don't have a problem with it. Do you?" Michael said sternly.

"Hey I'm just asking"

"Well I'm just answering. Hey, it might even be fun. I'll catch you later"

Michael made a stop at the local Co-Op to pick up a few things to stock up the kitchen. As he was looking for the aisle that had the biscuits he just happened to glance out of the windows and saw a pink Honda S2000 drive past heading out of the village centre in the direction of his place. He sighed to himself. He knew she would come to visit every now and then to check up on things, but she'd always call ahead to avoid any difficulties. If she was turning up unannounced, then it wasn't a social call.

He carried his shopping bag in one hand while his messenger bag and chart tube slung over his other shoulder as he walked away from the village centre down the road. The weather was pleasant, a warm summer day and the sun still shone brightly from the blue sky and a slight breeze helped it stay comfortably warm and not too hot.

As he arrived at his place he saw that sure enough Elita was there parked outside.

"Let me drop my stuff off first, got things for the fridge here" He said as he walked past and towards the path that led towards the communal door to a small block of flats. Fumbling for his keys he got the door open then climbed the stairs to the first floor and to his flat, soon he was in and putting the things away. He much preferred it to his old place where he once shared a house. Here he had the place to himself where he study in piece and quiet and also he could keep on top of tidying the place without having to deal with others mess. Minute later he rejoined Elita back the street.

She opened her passenger side door, inviting him in.

"Hows your exams going?" She asked.

"Ok I suppose. Just had my chartwork exam, I think I might have passed it"

"Think or know you've passed it?"

"Yeah that's a good question. I know I binned a few marks, just don't know if I binned too many. So what do I owe this pleasure then?"

"I know your busy revising for your exams and the last thing I would want to do is to distract you. But I can't avoid it"

"Come on, lets get to it, what's happened?"

"It's Arcee and Jack, they went out on a regular patrol but haven't reported back for sometime now. It's probably nothing, but the rest of the team are out on other assignments. Could do with some backup but I don't want to unnecessarily pull the rest of the team from their missions"

Michael nodded and without hesitation said "Alright, lets go then"


	2. Chapter 2

Elita brought Michael back to the Autobot base where as usual Ratchet was by himself working away at the computer terminal.

"Hey Ratchet, what's the story with Arcee and Jack?" Michael asked as he was loosening and removing his black tie.

"It's as Elita would have explained to you already. They were out scouting for an energon deposit I detected, but for some reason they are not responding"

"Care to elaborate a bit more on that?"

Ratchet turned away from his computer to face Michael "I have been experiencing problems communicating with the rest of our team. My best guess would be this is simply a malfunction on the com system"

"How bad is the reception from the others? Have you heard anything from them?"

"Yes but it comes and goes, same for their tracking signal. But I haven't spoken to Arcee or Jack for some time now and I'm getting no signal from their trackers"

"It's probably what it looks like, but experience says to take caution" Elita Said. "I think we should prepare for more than just simple equipment failure just in case"

"You think they been captured, don't you?" Michael asked abruptly, getting straight to the point.

Elita sighed, and nodded.

"Right then lets get tooled up"

The two made there way to the base's armoury where Michael picked up a belt kit with pouches for ammo, water and first aid equipment. The weight being largely held up with shoulder straps.

He picked up his weapon of choice which was a SA80 assault rifle, more specifically the L85A2 variant. The standard assault rifle for the British armed forces. Designed in the late seventies and brought into service in the eighties where the original variant, the A1 received cold reception due to terrible reliability, but after a re-jig and design changes it's been a British soldiers best friend for nearly thirty years. And for Michael it was an obvious choice as it was the cadet rifle variant that he first learnt to shoot with during his sea cadet days.

Additionally to the L85A2, he picked up a Glock 17 pistol as his side arm, that was placed in an under arm pistol strap. A staple firearm for law enforcement agencies around the world. Simple, reliable, rugged, a good all rounder.

He was gathering all the ammo he needed, nine millimetre parabellums for the Glock and the 5.56mm NATO rounds for the rifle. As he was sat there carefully placing rounds into magazines his eyes fell on a crate marked with 40mm grenades. Without a second thought he stopped loading magazines and went hunting around for a recently acquired piece of equipment that Agent Fowler managed to get at his request. There tucked up still in its packaging, was a Heckler & Koch AG36 grenade launcher, designed to fire 40mm grenades from under a barrel of a compatible assault rifle. Should make the difference if things got bad.

With all the equipment Michael wanted packed and ready to go, both he and Elita went back to the control room then Ratchet opened up a ground bridge portal to Arcee and Jack's last known position.

They came out the ground bridge onto a empty road in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in rural Pennsylvania. Elita had her blasters out ready and Michael had his rifle loaded and armed. Both did a quick sweep of their surrounding and found nothing. Just an empty road lined by the forest.

"Definitely not here then" Michael said.

"My scanner has picked up Arcee's tyre tracks. Looks like they were heading that way" Elita said pointing the way. She transformed into her vehicle mode and waited as Michael took off his belt kit and placed it on the passenger seat then he got in on the drivers side holding his rifle then the duo took off.

"Base from Michael, how do you read?"

"Your garbled" Came Ratchet's voice through the com system.

"Ok, radio check. One, two, three, four, five, five, four, three, two, one. Radio check"

"Ok, your coming in three by five"

"Well I'm reading you loud and clear"

Elita did her own radio check as well.

"Ok, you coming in about the same" Ratchet responded.

"Like Michael I'm reading you loud and clear. Seems your having trouble with the receiver only"

"At least I now know where to start looking. Keep checking regularly please"

"Will do" Elita replied as she continued down the road.

They followed the road widening twisting along the side of the valley for miles and miles till they reached a point where Elita's scans showed that Arcee's track suddenly went off road. She coasted to a stop and Michael got out getting his belt kit on and weapon out and ready in front of him.

"This way" Elita said, leading the way while continuing to scan the ground. "Looks like they got on foot by here"

Michael looked on the ground and could make out Arcee's footprints easily enough but due to how dry it was, finding Jack's proved difficult with no sort of evidence of his presence. They continued to track the trail of footprints for the best part of half a mile through the woods when the two came into a clearing and Elita stopped.

"Something happened here" She said.

The two split in opposite directions.

Michael couldn't make heads or tails of what he was observing. The earth was had clearly been churned up but no indication who or what caused it. He was was starting to suspect this might have been the work of a Decepticon. But apart from the ground there seemed to be no more clues like no broken trees which struck Michael as odd. Whenever the Autobots engaged with the con's he would expect that kind of damage in the environment he was standing in. It just didn't make sense.

"Over here!" Elita called out.

Michael jogged over to her and saw she was looking at the ground. A pile of spent rounds heaped on the ground, shiny and gold glinting in the fading light.

"Something tells me this definitely is not about a faulty communications" Elita said.

"So where are they?"

Both of them fanned out, trying to find a trial leading away from the site of what appeared to be an ambush. It was Michaels turn to find it. Large tyre tracks leading away to the west, wide and deep. Truck tyres. And the lack of any of Arcee's footprints or tracks suggested she may have been transported in the back of the truck.

Elita transformed back into her vehicle mode the two followed the tracks all the way back to the road. Elita was able to scan the microscopic bits of rubber stripped from a tyre allowing her to follow the trucks movement with ease.

Again following the twisting forest lined valley it appeared the truck had turned off onto a dirt road.

"Hang on Elita. Road could be bugged against intruders"

"Good point"

They carried on foot following parallel to the road. Michael took point, rifle out ready. They made good progress on the hard forest floor. But it didn't take long to find what they were looking for. In the shadow of the valley side the lights from a group of buildings lit up the surrounding area. A group of buildings, one with a metal lattice structure poking out the top. An old coal mine, Michael could tell straight away having seen so many back in South Wales.

They found cover in the a ditch made by the undulation of the valley slope. Michael carefully raised his head over the top and took a look through the scope on his rifle.

"Oh great. Guess who's behind this"

Elita pulled a blank.

"When we first met" Michael said to jog her memory.

"What, M.E.C.H? Are you kidding?"

"Wish I was. Stupid prats. Probably wanted Arcee to study her, again" Michael said resting his rifle on the ground.

"Yes but what about Jack though? They don't need him"

"That's what worries me too"

"Best guess is to just hit them head on while we have the advantage of surprise. They won't see us coming"

"Or how about I sneak in round the back. Find them and lead them out if possible. You hang back and charge in if required. If we can sneak them out the better for us. What do you think?"

"You sure you can do it?"

"Wouldn't have suggested it if I felt otherwise"

Elita thought about it for a moment.

"Ok. Ok lets got with that then. When though? You said before about attacking at four in the morning"

"Nah, these guys would expect that. Once the sun goes down, then we go and we'll do it in the cover of night"

"That's a couple of hours from now. Can't afford to wait that long"

"Why not? This has been been playing out for sometime now and so far it would seem nothing has happened since. Besides they see us coming and we're in trouble. We need all the advantages we can get"

Elita agreed to the idea and the two of them agreed a time to strike. Michael got his head down for a few hours while Elita kept lookout from their position.


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of metal rattling woke Michael up.

"What the hell was that?" He asked looking to Elita who herself didn't know.

The sound slowly got louder and louder and became clearer. Caterpillar tracks.

"Armour" Michael said worrying. That last thing the two of them needed was an infantry vehicle or tanks bearing down on them.

Michael picked up his rifle and crawled along the ditch in finding sight of what was coming. A minute later he came crawling back looking relieved.

"Looks like a sodding bulldozer"

"A bulldozer? Out here?" Elita said bewildered.

"I think it's lost. God knows how and why. It's passing by, should be gone in a minute"

They kept quiet and low while waiting for it to pass, Michael worked to get his heart rate down and to shake of the spike of adrenaline.

"So what have we got, your the one with the x-ray vision" He said

Elita looked towards the buildings and started to cycle through the electromagnetic spectrum. Starting at the radio spectrum with proved useless with all the radio signals bouncing around the place, but with the use of infrared she was able to identify the number and locations of all humans on the site with the blurred images of men standing at their posts or walking around. All their stances and movement led her to believe that they were armed. Then working her way through the spectrum she was able to determine the layout of the building to a certain degree of accuracy and had a possible location of Arcee and Jack.

From what she could determine she drew out the layout of the building in the dirt using her finger to show Michael the way while he got his gear ready. The two discussed their plan and possible escape routes then after a quick radio check they were ready.

Michael led first, keeping low and quiet running through the trees. Elita keeping a good twenty or so feet behind.

As they reached the tree line Elita got herself dug in and prepared to wait it out, she had a good view of the former mine. Roughly three hundred yards from the main gates. The closest she was going to get without being seen.

Michael moved along the tree line following parallel to the fence line looking for a way in. It was a standard wire mesh fence, no barbed wire and seven feet in height, though clearly showed lack of maintenance with rust prevalent and gaps made by those who had broken into the the place after the mine was abandoned.

He had walked right around to the right edge of the perimeter where he saw a break in the fence line. Part of the wire mesh had parted from the supporting pole. He knew he would get through that, however it was a matter of not being seen or heard and that wasn't going to be a simple matter due to the regular foot patrols guarding the perimeter.

He crawled low on this hands and knees out clear of the trees and into the long grass. Small quiet movements direct to the gap in the fence. It took a couple of minutes till he was right up tight against it. He waited.

He watched as a lone MECH agent slowly went past his position. He kept his head down and stayed quiet. The agent walked right past him without noticing. Again he waited.

Another minute later Michael felt it was safe enough to pass through the fence without being heard. So he quickly got to his feet and as carefully as humanly possible he tried to slip though. Then one of the pouches on his belt kit got caught on the wire mesh and the whole thing rattled.

Michael laid flat on the ground.

The agent who was now a good hundred yards down the fence line stopped and quickly spun round. He looked, hard. At first saw nothing in the darkness. He waited. Still saw nothing. Then he heard from the woods what he believed was a fox calling. Put two and two together came up with a wrong answer, shrugged it off and carried on his patrol.

Michael breathed out as a sigh of relief. He rose back up to his feet and darted for the rear of the main building. He saw an external staircase leading up to an upper floor fire escape which allowed access in. Not needing to decide he checked his rifle again, a round was in the chamber and ready to go. He climbed the stairs, nice and slow. He tried the door. It was stiff but a sharp pull prised it open just enough for him to slip through and closed it quietly behind him.

He found himself at the end of a walkway lined by an office which offered a clear view of the main floor below with what was the capped mine shaft at the center and their they were for all to see. Arcee was tied to the floor and appeared to be unconscious while Jack was next to her tied up to a chair.

Michael slipped into the office and watched and made an assessment. Initially he didn't see anyone from MECH but he knew they were around.

"Any x-rays near me?" Michael whispered.

"Three about to appear below you, standby" Elita responded.

And low and behold three did show up approaching Arcee.

"Let's get it ready for transport, Silas wants to examine the whole body properly. I'll get the truck, you two get it preped"

"What about the boy?"

"We don't need him. Just keep it simple"

Michael eyes bulged open, he had to act now.

The one in charge walked towards the main doors while the other two stepped over to Arcee and Jack. Keeping his sight on Jack for the moment Michael had his left hand search the floor for anything, he felt his hand touch something and brought it into sight. A piece of metal. Probably from a broken up filing cabinet, desk or chair. Michael didn't really care all that much. He chucked it onto the metal walkway just beyond the office door. It landed with a loud clang.

"What was that?" One said,

"Best check it out, I'll carry on here" The other replied.

Michael moved over to the wall on the other side of the door into a corner, his back flat up against it. He could here one of them slowly walking up the steps to the walkway. Then slowly along the walkway to towards the door.

"Who's there?" The MECH agent asked into the darkness.

Michael kept silent. He could make out the shadow passing the door frame, then a left foot.

Then Michael reached round with his right hand and grabbed hold of the back of the head then pushed as hard as possible, swinging the guy through a semicircle, through the door and straight into the wall on Michaels left, head first.

Then he pulled back on his left shoulder and turned him to face him head on and with the butt of his rifle smashed it hard into the agents face.

It happened so fast the soldier didn't have time to react let alone fight back.

It landed on his back with a loud thump.

The other one the main floor who was busy tying ropes on to Arcee's body heard a slight scuffle of feet, then a thumped followed by another a half second later. Then silence.

"You alright up there?" He called up.

No response.

"Come on, stop messing around, we need to get this done. You found anything?"

Still no response.

He dropped the rope currently in his hand and stepped back to look up at the walkway to see a body fall from the walkway onto him. The weight of the falling body struck a glancing blow on his back but while it didn't knock him out he was still pinned beneath the dead weight of his colleague.

With his right hand trapped under him he tried to push up but the pain in his arm made it a hard task. Then it got worse when he saw Michael appear coming down the steps, armed and looking seriously pissed off. He tried for his gun, but couldn't get it out in time.

Michael fired two very deliberate and precise shots to both their heads.

Michael jumped straight over to Jack. He looked somewhat beat up. Unconscious but breathing. Michael got a knife out and cut the straps tying him to the chair and got him into a recovery position. Next he checked on Arcee and was straight away at a loss. She seemed unconscious, but he tapped the side of her head just to be sure she wasn't faking it. He got no reaction. He knew that he needed Elita to get her out, he was a strong man but he knew he wasn't that strong.

Then the door leading outside opened and another MECH agent came storming in after hearing gun shots and began firing his gun at Michael. Michael ducked behind Arcee using her metal body as cover. He heard a burst of rounds then silence, then another burst. Michael shot back up, quickly took aim and held down the trigger and didn't let go until the entire magazine was empty. Sparks flew everywhere on the far wall, the thin sheet of metal stood little chance as bullet hole littered it, plus a further dead MECH agent was flat on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

Michael reloaded his rifle with a fresh magazine, dumping his spent one into a back pouch out of the way.

"Elita, get in here. Right now!"

"Coming" She replied.

By now the element of surprise was gone. Now he knew he was in trouble. They started pouring in launching a barrage of fire. Michael kept his head down as Arcee's body and taking pot shots at where he thought they were. He was able to hold them back to the far side of the building but didn't know for how long or how much fire Arcee's body could take with the incoming fire.

He had no other option. He loaded a grenade into the launcher, aimed upwards and fired. It made a loud pop and a trail of smoke made a parabolic arc in the air then landed on the floor and exploded.

There was no fiery explosion. Just a loud bang, a puff of smoke and dust and one heck of a shock wave that blew out the windows and took out a fair few of MECH agents. It mostly maimed and injured, but it was the break Michael needed to get a number of rounds downrange and took out a few more targets.

But before they could fight back, Elita came smashing through the roller shutters, her two tonnes of mass blew it aside like it was made of thin cardboard.

Between the two of them they made short work of the remaining MECH agents who as quickly as they could made a hasty retreat through a rear exit of the warehouse.

"Let's get them out of here!" Michael said getting a firm grip on Jack.

Elita picked up Arcee with ease and held her in her arms, then looked over to Michael.

"Give him here" Elita said kneeling down.

Michael hefted Jack onto Arcee's stomach and Elita carried the two of them out the building with Michael jogging alongside.

As they made a run for it three of MECH's cars and a troop carrier came up on their flank. Elita carried on running while Michael aimed and fired. Shooting out headlights, then windows then he fired indiscriminately. Glass shattering, piences of equipment inside the vehicles exploded into pieces as they were hit, sparks flying, sporadic shouting and fallen bodies, those hit and those dropping for cover.

Then he eyeballed the truck's exposed fuel tank and sprayed bullets at it. There was the sound of bullets ricocheting but many went through then an almighty explosion as the truck went up taking out all the cars and MECH agents with it.

A few minutes later and the two of them had made it into the forest. They could hear contacts behind them, but whoever they were firing at wasn't them. The light from the flaming wreckage could still be seen.

Michael took point with Elita following behind a slight distance. She now knew she not only had to lookout for herself, but for Arcee and Jack as well.

They traced their way through the woodland for a good half hour till they were fairly sure they weren't being followed.

Elita laid Arcee down on the ground then the same for Jack.

Arcee started to come round, barely.

"Jaa-" She tried to speak.

"It's okay Arcee, it's Elita"

"Jaa-" She tried to speak again.

"Yes, Michael and I got him too. Michael how is he?"

Michael checked him over. Breathing, steady but weak heart rate. Using the light on his phone, no pupil dilation.

"Alive, but needs hospital treatment now"

"Elita to base. Ratchet, do you read me? Damn nothing"

Michael tried and got no response.

"Try Fowler" Elita said.

Michael took a look at his phone "Ha!"

"What?"

"I couldn't call him even if I had a signal"

"Why not?"

"I forgot to take out my UK sim card, it won't connect on any US mobile network"

"Oh great. Well there isn't a signal here. There's a town a couple of miles that way. I should be able to get a signal there and connect to the local network by the way. Just a couple of miles, you up for that?"

"Another yomp? Yeah I'm game"

Michael got to his feet, checked his weapon and made off running ahead at his own pace taking point then Elita carrying both Jack and Arcee followed behind matching pace.

In the complete darkness the glowing street lights called out to them. Michael came to a stop at the verge of a ridge overlooking the town. Elita met up half a minute later and laid Arcee and Jack carefully on the ground.

"Oh for goodness sake, you have to be kidding me" Elita said.

"What?"

"No signal"

"What, do we do next then?"

"You're going to have to find a land line and call him"

Without having to be told twice he dropped his belt kit and rifle and check his pistol then removing his holster and putting the gun in his trouser pocket. Leaving the rest of his gear with Elita he then charged down the hill side and was soon on the town streets.

He made his way towards the town centre and looked up and down the main street and went straight for the only payphone. He picked up the hand set and heard noting, no dial tone. He checked under the phone to find the wires pulled out and rusted. This phone hadn't been working for a long time. In frustration he bashed the box with the handset cursing it.

He looked along the street and his eyes fell upon what appeared to be the local Sheriff office, but the lights were off and looked close. In fact pretty much everything looked closed except for a diner that was lit up with flickering neon lights that was still clearly open for business.

Michael crossed the street and stepped inside and the smell of fried food and burnt coffee hit his senses.

"What can I do for y'all mister?" The guy behind the counter asked wearing a dirty apron and thick rimmed glasses. Clearly suspicious of a man whose white shirt was dirtied and damaged. A man who had been in a fight.

"You got a phone I can use? Can't get a signal on my mobile"

"Down the end there. You lost mister? You don't sound like you come from these parts"

"Yeah not exactly" Michael replied as he walked along the counter the a payphone mounted on the wall.

He picked up the handset and this time got a dial tone. He went for his pocket and pulled out some change then realised it was pounds and pence. Michael laughed to himself again quietly. So he dialled 0 and made a reverse call to the number for Fowler's number. "Michael Rickers" He said when prompted to say his name.

"Michael, what's going on? Shouldn't you be in the middle of exams right now?" Fowler said answering the call.

"On a rescue mission with Elita, lost coms with base. We've got both Arcee and Jack and needing medical treatment and MECH are close behind us. We need help"

"Where are you?"

"Erm, hang on"

Michael leaned back from the phone "Excuse me fella, what's this town called?"

The guy in the dirty apron gave him a funny look "Your in Centerville. You okay mister?"

Michael ignored him and went back to the phone "I'm in a town called Centerville in Pennsylvania, in some diner at the moment"

"Hold the line" Fowler replied then giving Michael the on hold tone.

He looked around as we waited. The diner looked just like any other regular diner, cafe or cheap restaurant he had visited. Tables with chairs forming two lines one along the windows and another in the middle and a line of high chairs by the counter.

He gave the guy in the apron the occasional glance, when the guy looked back Michael just returned a friendly smile as people tend to do.

"Michael you still there?"

"Yeah I'm here"

"Ok. I've contacted an army base that's nearest to you. I can vouch for them as they are Army Rangers. They'll be waiting for you 15 miles north of the main road out Centerville. I've spoke to the CO there and he's been read in on the situation so your ok to tell him everything he might want to know"

"That's brilliant. Thanks a lot"

"Anytime" Fowler said before hanging up.

Michael replaced the handset and went back over to the counter "Excuse me, but which way is north?"

The guy in the apron pointed to his right and looked somewhat irritated "That way mister. Look are you going to ask more questions or are you going to order something?"

Michael looked at him with a deadpan face and flatly said "No" then left.

Ten or so minutes past and Michael reunited to Elita. He told her the plan and they wasted no time in getting back on the move.

Again they were on foot keeping well into the forest staying away from the roads where MECH may be patrolling. Though unlike earlier Elita followed closely behind Michael and for a while it seemed like they would get to the rendezvous without incident, that was until a stray round flew past Michael by a couple of feet and embedded itself into a tree.

Michael dropped to the floor and laid flat while Elita got to cover with Arcee and Jack putting them down and drawing her weapons.

The two of them returned fire and within moment they found themselves in a substantial firefight.

Elita got to a good position and started picking off targets aiming at muzzle flashes while Michael resorted to somewhat random pot shots at where he believed them to be.

"Michael, stand by" Elita called out.

"Aye" He replied and emptied an clip in one go as Elita moved forward and took up a closer position and continued to blast away into the dark using her infra red vision to spot them.

Then Michael followed suit overtaking Elita and taking a offensive position and the two of them pepper potting their way towards MECH continuing to dwindle their numbers.

Elita took another overtake and was towering over the last few MECH agents who decided to retreat. Michael and Elita didn't make chase.

After a moment Michael took a look around him and saw five or so bodies lying scattered on the forest.

"Alright, lets get going before they come back" Elita said getting Michael's attention.

As Michael took a step to follow her he heard movement spun round to see a supposed dead solider reach for his gun, Michael opened fire and made sure this time he was dead. Not taking chances Michael then lightly kicked the other bodies to be sure. No more rounds needed firing.

They got going again and they faced no more opposition and in an hour they had reached the rendezvous and from within the trees they could see US army soldiers waiting at the roadside.

"Stay here" Michael said as he walked over to the road.

"Man coming in!" He announced.

The soldiers pointed their weapons at him.

"Identify yourself!" Ordered the unit's commanding officer.

"Michael Rickers, I'm Special Agents Fowler's man" Michael said, his weapon slung down by his side and hands up above his head as he stepped over to the unit.

"ID is in my pocket"

The unit commander approached carefully with his side arm drawn. Michael stopped showing his right side indicating the pocket to reach into to which the commander put his hand in and pulled out Michael's wallet and inspected it. He saw his UK driving licence and seemed happy with it.

"Happy to assist you in any way possible, sir"

"You got a medic?"

"Yes sir and a truck as requested by Agent Fowler"

"Brilliant" Michael said as he turned to face the way he came and gave the all clear for Elita to come out.

Within moments Elita came barrelling out onto the road with Arcee and Jack in her hands, saw the camouflaged coloured army truck and slid Arcee's body into it as two Medic's jumped in to inspect Jack.

"Stay with Jack" Elita told Michael as she transformed back into vehicle mode then following the convoy of vehicles that took off down the road.


	4. Chapter 4

"My name is Michael Rickers and I am a Deck Officer Cadet with Seawave Maritime Agencies studying here at Warsash Maritime Academy"

"That's great, can you tell me why you wanted to join the merchant navy?" Asked Miles who had a camera set up pointing over his shoulder facing Michael who himself had a microphone clipped to his shirt. They were in one of the conference rooms in the nautical college with a great view of Southampton Water with Isle Of Wight ferries racing up and down and numerous yachts sailing in and out of the entrance to the River Hamble and up to down from Southampton itself.

"Well it's a family tradition. Both my parents were in the Royal Navy and as a result a lot of family friends were as well. I myself at a young age grew up on naval bases all over the place. So deciding to go to sea was the natural thing to do"

The interviewed continued for a little while, Miles asking about Michaels thoughts and feelings about his cadetship. Questions about friendships formed while at college and at sea, things he learnt and how he managed to start as a cadet. He was the last of the group of cadets to be answered so Miles decided to skip a few question where the answer wouldn't be that different from the others as he intended to edit the interviews down to short snippets for easy viewing.

"Where do you hope to be in ten years time?" Miles asked.

"That's a somewhat hard question to answer. I'd definitely liked to have gained my chief mates ticket for sure, and probably my masters ticket as well. But as for my career, I have no set plan. Tankers, cruise ships, DSV's, tugs, harbour pilot or even shore side. I don't know. I know others tend to have an idea of where they'd like to go but as for myself, I'd like to see where life takes me and go from there because you never know for sure what might happen"

"And that leads me to my next question, because you yourself have seen first hand very unexpected events so far during your training"

"That's right" Michael answered. Shifting more upright in his seat.

"Now, it's a known fact that being at sea comes with its risks and while it is rare things can and do go wrong. And this did happen on your first tour at sea. Now I know this is a difficult question, but an inevitable one. Would you tell me about the Catalonian Star"

"The Catalonian Star? What's there to say, its all been said" Michael said as a subtle way of saying he didn't want to talk about it. But Miles didn't pick up on it.

"Well what happened?"

"Well we carry dangerous goods all the time and there are rules governing how it's to be stowed and any extra precautions to be taken. However on this occasion there was a large quantity of dangerous goods that were not declared so weren't aware of it and as a result they were stowed incorrectly in accordance to the IMDG code, the international rules of stowing such goods. This as a result started a fire onboard which very quickly got out of control"

Michael paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair with his gaze drifting out of a window to the side.

It was at the moment in time he was picturing when it happened. In his mind he was seeing his friend again for the last time as he put on his BA mask before descending into the cargo hold.

The sounds, smell, sights and the fear he felt at the time came back to him. Replaying in his mind like a nightmare.

"You ok to continue?" Asked Miles, bringing Michael back to reality. Michael looked back at him and nodded. Took a moment to compose himself then carried on with his response.

"We er. We... we did our best to get the fire under control, but we failed and a massive explosion occurred which killed a number of the crew, including a good friend of mine who I knew from before starting this whole business"

"And how did that make you feel after you found out?"

"At first I felt sorrow, loosing a great friend. He was very switched on, much better than I am. I also felt denial for awhile because part of me didn't want to accept he was gone. Then after that, anger"

"Anger?"

"Yeah, because at the end of the day somebody chose not to declare those dangerous goods because they would have had to pay a higher shipping rate otherwise. My friend and others of the crew died because someone else wanted to save themselves money and didn't give a thought to those who took that risk for them unwillingly. That makes me very angry knowing that"

"But in the intervening time, how do feel about it now?"

"I think I'm at peace with it now. I know I can't travel back in time and change what happened and I've accepted that. But I look back at it and know it's a case of really bad luck. We know when we all signed up for this business that there are risks involved, but none of us cadets could even imagine that what happened could happen. But we all grieved and we mourned the loss, but we don't wear the black arm band forever"

Later in the afternoon, Michael was once again sitting another exam. Sat down this time. Question sheet, answer booklet and a stability data book of a fictional ship. He scribbled down equations, plugging numbers into his calculator and doing all sorts of calculations. The question he was currently on asked him to calculate that if the ship was loaded in such a manner how easy would it right itself if wind or waves pushed it over. So he had to calculate where the centre of gravity was, draw a GZ curve on graph paper and extract information from that to give him the answer. By the time he had answer which consisted of a number with a tonnes per meter measurement and about three sides of A4 paper written on.

The questions were tough and covered many aspects to ship stability. Load lines, transverse stability, longitudinal stability and the effects to the ship structure with all the expected forces going through it. He was given three hours to complete the exam, but even that didn't seem enough. But soon the three hours were up and one by one the class left, some feeling good about their performance while others had their doubts. And like the class had always done, they compared answers. And as a surprise to Michael it looked like he done well, even though it was one of his weaker subjects.

Hours after the exam was over, day had turned to night but lights were on in one of the classrooms in the main teaching block. The sound of people shouting out and having a good time. Bottles of beer strewn around, many of which were empty. Paper plates with nick nacks were all over the place and everyone of Michaels class plus friends including Jack were either standing or sitting where they could. All were looking at the projected imaged on the interactive white board.

"Turn to starboard!" The group yelled out.

"No kidding" Said the class' course tutor.

Then an image of three green circles displayed in a neat triangle appeared in a black background.

"Minesweeper!" The group chanted.

"OK, OK. Somebody hit the lights please" The course tutor said making his way to the front.

"Now this will be our last time together for well over a year. I know, I know. I'm going to miss you too" He said jokingly.

"Now you bunch have to be one of the best class' I've had the pleasure of working with. Even what we've doing now isn't a common thing. But I just want to say for one more time for all of you to work hard, study hard and try to take in as much as you can and apply everything we have taught you here so far. And please, please, please make sure you come back with completed record books and importantly with supporting evidence. But on a serious note whatever happens, just make sure you all come back safe"

After a while the party had died down a bit, some had already left while people broke off into smaller groups, conversing with each other. Michael had ushered Jack to a quieter corner and began speaking over a few bottles of beer. Keeping their conversation private.

"You still haven't told me what happened to you and Arcee" Michael said leaning against the wall.

"It was a routine recon mission, just like many. At first there wasn't much happening, and eventually we found an energon signal. When we got their, they ambushed us. They knocked out Arcee and then grabbed me. It was like the first time we encountered them, but this time Airachnid wasn't there and they wanted information from me"

"Information?"

"Where the base was located"

"I take it you didn't tell them"

"Come on, what do you take me for?" Jack chucked as he scratched the back of his head. "No, I did as Fowler told me and just told them false locations. I don't remember much after that"

"I can help your there, they conked you out and the A – Team came in and saved the day"

"The A-Team? So what does that make Arcee and me?"

"Well, the B-team, dummy" Michael smiled.

"I never did thank you for getting us out"

"Well that's what teamwork is all about. Working as one, synergy ...other bullshit phrases they use in management courses" Michael joked, both laughing.

After having a few more swig of beer Jack asked "So did your exams go then?"

"I honestly don't know right now. I felt good about some, and bad about others. But none I've felt definite about. Obviously I think I got the academic mark, but as for the MCA mark, well"

"Hang on, I don't understand. Academic, MCA. What?"

"Ok, it's like this, we have to pass the University requirement to be awarded a Higher National Diploma, but it's the MCA that issue's the licence to be an officer, so you need to pass their requirement to get it. So basically we have to aim for the MCA mark which is always higher, otherwise there isn't much point in doing all this"

Jack nodded in understanding.

"So when do you leave?"

"Not sure yet, should be a few weeks from now"

"How long will be you at sea this time?"

"Four, many five months. Six if I want to extent it for more sea time" Michael said before taking another sip.

"I don't know how you do it"

"Oh that's easy, you have to have a screw loose. Can't work at sea and be sane. No way"

"Well hopefully nothing will go wrong this time" Jack said confidently.

Michael then pointed sharply at Jack "If anything happens now, I'm blaming you"

"Why, what did I do?"

"You, jinxing it" Michael said lightly poking Jack.

Then by night's end it was the end of Phase three for Michael and Phase four in his officer training had began.

The next two days Michael spent packing up all his stuff. Selling stuff he wouldn't need, mostly furniture and white goods and handed the flat keys back to the letting agent and headed back to Cardiff to stay at his godfather's house.

After he arrived it was just himself for the first few days as the admiral was away in London then up and down the country visiting naval bases as he always did. But very quickly he was on the move again and was staying at the Autobot base and going on patrol missions with his guardian and friend, Elita quite regularly.

During one patrol in the Atacama desert they were searching for the source of an energon signal which they identified as in the side of a cliff what seemed to be an Decepticon energon mine. The two took a high vantage point on the far side of the canyon in order to observe. While watching to plan their next move Michael's phone started to ring, loudly.

Quickly fumbling around to reach it and stop the noise he answered the call while Elita could only looked in horror. She checked to see if the Decepticons had heard it, luckily somehow they had not.

"Hello?" He said quietly

"Good evening Mr Rickers, I'm calling from Seawave Maritime Agencies" A lady spoke from the other end of the line.

"Oh, hello"

"Just calling you to inform you that you'll be joining the Woodbridge on the twelve in Istanbul"

"Wait, wait wait" Michael said quickly, flabbergasted "I thought I would be joining the Patagonian Star?"

"Well I have paperwork here saying it's the Woodbridge. I'll email you a copy of joining instructions, flight details and a letter of guarantee"

"Well, if that's what it is, that's what it is. Thanks anyway"

"My pleasure, goodbye"

Michael hung up "Damn" He whispered to himself"

"Change of plan then?" Elita asked.

"Yeah you could say that. You know sometimes I wonder what the hell they do at the office. But then again if I did, I would be earning a lot more money"

"Well we can discuss it later, right now we've got our own job to do. And for Primus sake, put that phone on silent"

"You've got it" Michael said changing the setting on it then preping his rifle.

A couple hours later and they had returned to base both sporting a few battle scars but came away with a much needed small supply of energon.

Michael was on his laptop and was studying the email waiting for him. And was mostly huffing away in mild annoyance.

"What's the problem?" Elita asked as leaned over the safety rail on the platform reserved for humans after being patched up by Ratchet.

"Well for starters it's registered in Liberia, not the UK. I thought the company was taking advantage of the tonnage tax scheme"

"What's that?"

"Basically shipping companies gets a reduction on the tax they pay is they have British cadets on UK flagged vessels as a way of getting more ships back on the register and getting more funding for cadets"

"So with you on this ship, they won't get the reduction"

"That's right. Look here, says here it used to be UK flagged only a few months ago. This has got to be a mistake" Michael said as he dialled in the number for his training officer.

"Michael, what do I owe this pleasure?" He answered.

"The Woodbridge, are you sure I'm supposed to be joining it?" Michael said, getting straight to the point.

"Let me just check my computer and yes you are, what's the problem?"

"Well it's registered in Liberia not the UK. I thought cadets only went on UK ships?"

"I'm not aware of it being a problem. Just get out there, get your tasks signed off and have a great time"

Michael didn't bother to argue the point.

The next few days flew by and before he knew it he was giving an emotional farewell to all of team prime before bridging back home then the following morning was in his godfather's car driving to the airport. Both him and the admiral walked into the terminal and approached the KLM desk first to confirm his seat on the six o'clock flight out of Cardiff Airport then the half past ten flight out of Amsterdam Schipol and checked in his baggage. Two big bags as he was taken advantage on his seafarers weight allowance, double the normal allowance. But one bag was significantly empty, as he was expecting to bring a few gifts back from his travels. He kindly neglected to mention the Glock 17 stowed carefully away in the specialist pouch Ratchet had made for his gun preventing it being detected by security scanners.

Once he has his baggage claim ticket and boarding pass the two went up stairs and sat for a quiet last few minutes drinking coffee.

Over the PA the flight to Amsterdam was called for passengers to make they way through security.

"Well I think that's your cue to get going" Baines said.

"Yeah looks like" Michael replied, picking up his hand luggage.

Baines followed Michael right up to point for passengers only and the two stopped.

"You take care of yourself kid. Keep yourself safe, enjoy it while it lasts. A few years time you'll actually be responsible for for your ship's safety. What a frightening thought that is"

"Thanks" Michael said, then hugging his godfather tight one more time before walking through to security.

After a short wait in the departures lounge, his flight was finally called open. Then a short walk to the gate then another wait it was called for baording. A quick walk out on the apron he baording a bright blue Fokker 70 aircraft and being shown his way to his seat. As he requested, he was seated on an emergency exit seat for extra legroom. And within a few minutes the aircraft left the gate and started to taxi. Michael didn't pay attention to the safety briefing.

As the plane taxied past the airport's fuel depot he could see two cars parked up on the perimeter road. Baines' black Jaguar and a pink convertible. He didn't wave out the window. They wouldn't be able to see him anyway plus he would feel silly doing it. So he refrain to just looking.

Moments later the plane lined up on the runway and the jet engines roared to life with everyone being pushed hard into their seats. The vibrations was strong as though the whole thing was about to fall apart, but as soon as the plane rotated and started to climb the vibrations stopped and everyone now being pushed down in their seat and within a few minutes they were on the cruising altitude on the way to Amsterdam.

* * *

Author's Note

Ooh, been a while since I did one of these. Give you an update on my life thus far. Well I qualified an an Officer Of the Watch over 2 years ago and can be an officer on any size ship in the world. Spent most of that time as an AB on the cross channel ferries to France, but just a few months ago I got my first job as a deck officer, now I find myself working for the world's largest tug operator and assigned to one of the newest and advanced tugs in the UK. Been exciting stuff getting the vessel ready and getting all the systems activated. So I'm a fairly busy now these days. Did a short video showing where I work, link is in my profile page, check it out.


	5. Chapter 5

Michael's flight to Amsterdam was uneventful, slight turbulence for time to time but it landed at Schiphol airport on time. Michael check for his connecting flight which was expected to depart from a nearby gate in an hours time so he took his time drinking coffee and eating waffles. Soon he was on his next flight and was on his way to Turkey.

After another three hours of flying, he landed at Istanbul Ataturk Airport, again on time. The scenery was a stark contrast to the wet and cold climate of the UK for dry arid heat of the eastern Mediterranean. As soon as Michael was walking off the plane and just before the air conditioning of the jetway could hit him he felt the heat and it felt good.

He made his way over to immigration where hundreds if not a thousand or so people were waiting in many and vast queues waiting to pass through. So Michael got himself into one and waited. After a minute or more he just so happened to look over to the aircrew immigration stand and saw a man waiving a sign high above his head with the word Woodbridge on it.

His ship agent.

Fighting though the queue that formed behind him he made his way around to the crew desk and waved to the man.

"You Mr Rickers?" The man holding the sign asked.

"Yes, yes that's me"

"Ok, ok. You give me passport and I get visa for you"

"Erm, ok. How long?"

"I be short time. You no worry. I be quick" The man said quickly as Michael did as asked and the man took off heading for a side office.

Michael waited, and kept on waiting.

For awhile he kept checking the time. Minute by minute, he counted eight of them but the man had not returned. Thoughts of his passport being sold on the black market and him being abandoned in the airport filled his mind. But they went away as he saw the man come back with a official looking gentlemen following him. The man in the uniform checked the photograph and was satisfied with the likeness and let him though.

Moments later he had his baggage and was in the warm air of Turkey.

A car was waiting for them and it drove them a short distance of a few miles along the coast till it arrived at a small harbour filled with small work boats with a view of the hundreds of ships anchored just a mile or two off the coast waiting for crew changes, stores or for Bosphorus pilots for transiting the strait leading to the Black Sea.

But instead of going to a boat he was led over to an office and invited to seat down and enjoy drinks and snacks.

"What's the delay?" Michael asked his agent.

"The ship not arrived yet. But others are flying in to join, you landed first" He explained.

"So how long till it gets here?"

"Four hours, maybe five"

Michael resigned to waiting by lounging out on a sofa and looked at his surrounding. Not much to look at, a metal framed wooden top desk with paper and a computer. A table in a corner with refreshments. A TV mounted on a wall with local news in Turkish.

Over on a far wall was a large Turkish flag and a poster showing Ataturk himself, the first Turkish President when it became a republic. The man looking proudly up and to the right with the flag of Turkey flying behind him. The poster reminded Michael of old Soviet propaganda poster, seemed odd seeing that Turkey was a member of NATO.

'Probably the norm in this part of the world' He thought to himself.

After a couple of hours waiting a few more crew members began to arrive and half an hour before sundown they were led over to another immigration office to be officially checked out of Turkey then onto a work boat.

Michael looked back at the city, the views were spectacular, the spires of the old mosques and towers from the ancient buildings make great silhouettes in the low sun.

Then he got the first look of what was to be his home for the next few months, MV Woodbridge. A much smaller vessel than those he had been on previously. While they were well over two hundred meters long this one was barely a hundred and eighty meters.

Five holds and four deck cranes serving them with three sixty degrees of motion. The small work boat came along where the pilot ladder was in place and once tied alongside those of the off coming crew came down the ladder. Some recognising those of the on going crew who took a moments to catch up with each other while their luggage was lowered in the netting by one of the deck cranes. The luggage between the two groups where swapped out and the crane hauled it aboard.

Then one by one the ongoing crew climbed the rope ladder. Michael had to hold on tight to the rope's sides as everyone on it was causing it to swing away widely from the hull then smash against it also making the situation worse was the fact it was a fair way down into the water.

It was moments like these that sometimes made Michael question the choices he made in his life that brought him to such situations. But he kept climbing till he reached the upper deck where he was greeted.

"You must me the new cadet, Mr Rickers. I'm the the chief officer, welcome on board"

"Thank you. Good to be here. I'm I the only cadet onboard?"

"Yes you are. But we should be getting another when we get to port"

"About that, I've no idea were the ship is headed. You just sailed from Italy, yes?"

The Chief Officer ordered one of the AB's to take Michaels luggage then proceeded to show Michael the way towards the accommodation block. By now the sun had gone down and night had taken hold with the only light being supplied by the bright orange deck lights so bright they were blinding to look at.

"Well we came from Canada then onto Morocco then to Italy were we have loaded fertilizer. We headed for Ukraine to fill the ship entirely with more of the stuff then we're off to Kenya to discharge it. After that is anyone's guess"

"So no set route then"

"No, no. Not like container ships. Bulk carriers are as close to being like a tramper of the old days. We get a new charter we load in one place, discharge in another then onto the next charter. I guarantee you'll see a lot of the world during you're time onboard"

"Sounds great" Michael said with a smile.

He was shown into the accommodation block which was a stark contrast to the plush fitted interiors of previous ships with bare metal bulkheads and exposed electrical ducting on the deckheads. He was shown up a flight of stairs to A deck then immediately to his right was the third engineers cabin to which he was told would be his as there was no third engineer on board.

A somewhat small space with a bunk taking up half of the room with a fitted sofa running along the foot of the bed with just enough space for legs, a metal locker next to the door and the en suite on the other corner to the bed along with a great view out onto the cargo hatches.

He spent an hour taken the time to unpack his stuff and make the place his own. Went back down to the upper deck and had dinner in the messroom then back to his cabin and got ready for bed. The mattress was very firm, almost like lying on a hard floor. Then a hour or so later he heard the anchors being hauled up and the main engine start up.

The vibrations from the main engine caused a lot of rattling, especially from the fixture that rattled against each other. Before getting into bed he spent ten minutes stuffing bits of tissue paper in places to stop the rattling till the point the ambient noise was bearable.

"Damn it man, what have gotten yourself into this time?" Michael questioned himself then tried to get some sleep.

The next morning and by now the ship was well into the Black Sea and steaming its way to Ukraine. Michael got up having not getting much sleep and went through the process of getting ready for the day. After getting breakfast he headed straight for the bridge. Again just like the rest of the ship, it was small and looked bare to the metal. There the Chief Officer was handing over to the third officer when he noticed Michael.

"We've got some news for you. The captain wants to speak to you, he's in the back office" He said pointing the way.

Michael squeezed this way past round and stood in the doorway and met the captain. He was a bald headed man in his late fifties and looked like he spent a long time in the sun. Clearly not doing much physical exercise any more as his waistline would testify to. He looked away from his computer and acknowledged Michael's presence.

"Ah hello there. Michael is it?" He asked, his voice a higher pitch than average for a man his age as he shook hands.

"I got an email that came through this morning. It seems you have been sent to the wrong ship"

"What?" Michael asked with confusion.

"You'll be transferred to the Patagonian Star when we get back to Istanbul"

"Ah, I see"

"So make the most of your time here. If you've got any questions, please feel free to ask"

"I will, thanks" Michael said mentally cursing the office for the mess up he now found himself in.

In the intervening hours Michael was given the mandatory ship familiarisation, shown where all the safety equipment was located, the way to emergency stations and shown the muster list and what he would need to do in an emergency. Plus other stuff like where the gym was, where he could throw away any trash and other stuff. Then a quick tour of the engine room where the main power house of the ship was a large slow speed marine diesel engine with just eight cylinders. Not as big as those he had seen before, but no one would call it pokey either.

The evening was drawing in and after his first bridge watch with the chief officer, he retired to his cabin and made a video call to the Autobot base.

 _"How are things going on the Woodbridge?"_ Elita asked.

"Ok I suppose. Though my time here will be short lived"

 _"What's happened?"_ Elita asked with concern.

"Oh nothing to worry about. Turns out they did send me to the wrong ship after all"

 _"Your kidding?"_

"Wish I was, sort of. There sending me to the Patagonian Star, where I was expecting to go anyway. My classmates are on that ship so I'm not complaining"

 _"Where they sending you to join?"_

"Not sure yet. I checked it's where it is and it's heading up the Red Sea bound for the Netherlands. So could be in Egypt, Gibraltar. Hell, I could just be sent home to then wait and join in Holland for all I know. So what have I missed then?"

 _"Well a bit actually"_

"Oh do spill the beans"

 _"It's Starscream, he's deserted the Decepticons"_

"Do what?" Michael said shocked.

 _"We were investigating Decepticon movements to the remains of a old Con transport ship that crash landed on Earth a long time ago. He was with Airachnid who tied him up and fled leaving him with us where he just decided he wanted to defect"_

Michael sat there stunned, speechless.

 _"It gets better. He led us to where Airachnid was going and Optimus told Arcee to guard him while the rest of us hunted her down. I don't know exactly how it happened but somehow Starscream accidentally admitted to killing Cliffjumper, Arcee's old partner"_

"Shit, is he still alive?"

 _"The two fought but Starscream got away. No one has heard from him since"_

"And Arcee?"

 _"Beating herself up. Can't really blame her"_

Michael sighed "No I suppose you can't. I wonder what this will mean for Megatron seeing his second in command has jumped ship"

 _"While it will shake them up, it could be a breakthrough we've been waiting for. However it does mean that a dangerous psychopath is on the loose"_

The following day for Michael went by with little drama. More time on the bridge, a couple of hours till they arrived at Ukraine.

After getting his head down for a few hours kip, his alarm sounded and he shot up and got straight into his overalls and headed for upper deck.

First job was to rig up the pilot ladder which was a four man effect being overseen by the ship's boson. They unrolled it by the marked position where there was a gate on the ships side rail then lowered over the side till the end of the ladder was a meter above the watch as requested by the pilot boat. Lights were rigged up, lifebuoy on standby. Then waiting in the rapidly cooling night air.

Soon one of the officers came down as the pilot boat approached and came alongside. The pilot grabbed onto the ladder while the ship was still at speed, taking his time as he climbed. As he made it up the deck the officer greeted him and escorted him up to the bridge while Michael along with the other AB's pulled up the pilot ladder and stowed it away then headed to the forecastle with the first job being to clear the anchors ready for use then more waiting and watching as the glow of shore lights got brighter and brighter.

Then once the ship had enter the port the chief officer arrived and told the bosun how many lines he wanted put out and where. So winches were started up and rope was flaked across the deck and heaving lines attached to the eyes of the mooring ropes where they had been fed through fairleads ready to be landed ashore. Then more waiting.

Soon things got busy again with the arrival of tugs, the lead one taking station directly underneath the flare of the bow. The crew dropped a heaving line onto the tug's deck where one of their crew attached it to the towing line. Using the drum end on a winch they heaved the line on board then slinging it over one of the bits. Michael kept well back as fifty tonnes of force was exerted through the towing line, enough line for it to slice a person in two like a hot knife through butter should it snap.

The next few minutes the ship came close to the berth and with the assistance of the tugs it swung through one hundred and eighty degrees then was pushed onto the berth where Michael and others coiled up messenger lines and threw them as far as possible to linesman waiting on the quayside. First the springlines went out then both fore and aft put them in tension then the headlines and sternlines went out, tightened and the brakes applied on the winches. Once the captain was satisfied the ship was in position and not moving the tugs were let go and the mooring parties were stood down. After another half hour setting up the accommodation ladder over the ship's side the majority of the crew were stood down, Michael included. Ten minutes later he was back to sleep.

The following morning got to a slow start for him, a quick shave and shower then down to the messroom for breakfast. Then he met up with the duty officer who gave him a quick tour of what was happening on deck. Showing cargo being poured into one of the holds. Then explaining what the officer's duties were and the do's and don'ts. All the while Michael making notes and snapping away photo's for his training reports.

Then in the late morning the arrival of Ukrainian customs officers came on board and held a meeting with the captain. They first checked the entire crews passports which the captain held in his safe and then the told him they wanted to see a number of individuals for random searches, Michael was on the list.

The officer in charge told the others who to speak with and what they were looking for and made a point of speaking with Michael himself. So he went straight to Michael's cabin.

"You Michael Rickers?" He asked.

"Yes, sir" Michael answered.

"Have, no have, enter Ukraine before?"

"No, sir"

"You wish to make visit on land here?"

"No sir"

"Okay, and you no have bad things? Cigarettes, alcohol or porno?"

"None at all sir"

"Okay, I will make search of cabin for me to see, understand?"

"Perfectly sir. Be my guest" Michael said then stepped outside in the alleyway.

At first the officer started to check the usual sort of places, draws, cupboards, wardrobes and bags. Michael was picturing where he had stowed away his gun which he had tape up amongst the piping criss crossing the deckheads in his bathroom. Safe enough and well out of the way. No problem for a routine inspection like he had done many times before. Except it was clear this wasn't routine as the customs officer stepped into the bathroom.

Alarm bells started ringing in Michael's mind. Pictures of him being arrested and carted off to a Ukrainian jail for being in possession of a firearm played out.

But he kept cool on the outside, not breaking into a sweat, his breathing low and controlled.

The officer meticulously checked every conceivable place. But found nothing, then saw the piping above. Reaching as high as he can he brushed his hand along the pipes, but he was too short to reach as far as Michael could and the gun was tape to a pipe just above the one he could check.

He knew the gun was there, but he couldn't find. He just needed to look like he came about it by chance and to get something to stand on would be too suspicious. Kicking himself he stepped back into the cabin.

"All is okay, no bad things here I can see. You just joined ship yes?"

"Yes sir, in Istanbul"

"A cadet. You will be on board for some time, yes?"

"Er, no. Seem I was sent to the wrong ship by mistake. Ah well, shit happens"

"And now you go to other ship?"

"Yes, I'm getting off in Turkey and flying to Egypt most likely"

"Ah Egypt. Once I go for holiday. No good. Everyone always ask for money, money money. They are money grabbing bastards. Be careful there"

"Oh I will sir, I will"

"Okay then, you have good day now"

"Thank you sir, you too"

The officer smiled as he left Micheal's cabin to see how his other officers were getting on.

"That was a weird one" Michael said to himself.

After the customs officers were done with their checks they signed off the ship and made their way back to their car. The lead one slowed back from the others as he made a call.

"I'm sorry sir" He said, completely dropping the Ukrainian accent and broken English. "I couldn't find a way to arrest him"

"Because I didn't find his gun that's why"

"I can't go back now, the ship has been cleared. It would way too suspicious to go back and check again"

"There may be another way. I've just learned from him directly that he is being transferred to another ship, most likely in the Suez canal"

"If the ship is in the Suez, then it's been going to past Somalia at some point"


	6. Chapter 6

After two days in the Ukrainian port of Yuzhny, the loading of fertilizer was completed in the two remaining holds of the MV Woodbridge. The port itself was a shadow of its Soviet past, having being left to fall into largely disrepair since the collapse of the communist regime. While the conveyor belts and loader were operational, everything on the quayside where heavily rusted, warehouses even had pitted holes on there metal roofs, paint was flaking off everything. It was a mess.

But soon none of that was a bother as Michael now found himself on the move again with a two day sail south across the Black Sea back towards Turkey, to the Bosphorus Straits and the ancient city of Istanbul.

They made landfall of the Turkish coast in the late morning as the ship came to an eventual stop at an anchorage. They waited for confirmation from the Turkish authorities as to which position on the southern convoy they would be in and went to expect a pilot. The answer was to be around half past five in the evening so a lengthy wait was to be expected.

Michael took the time to go around the ship once more to take photos and notes, for training purposes and also a few holiday snaps as most people do before leaving a ship they are sure never to board again.

The scenery was amazing, the way the old houses were built on the rocky outcrops of jagged coastline in contrast to the falling sun. The way the colours contrasted against each other looked almost surreal and would only be found in the imaginings of a late nineteen century impressionist painter. Michael couldn't help but to take photos of the spectacle on offer.

But soon half five came and the arrival of a local pilot started off a flurry of activity. The main engine was fired up, anchor aweigh and soon the ship was making for the Bosphorus. The ship steamed along the narrow channel at slow speed following a tanker that was most likely carrying Russian oil. Within an hour or so they were coming to the densely packed waterway through the middle of Istanbul, right between the old divide of east and west. Where modern buildings mingled with the ancient spires of mosques.

Then as the ship approached the southern entrance of the Bosphorus the pilot navigated the vessel towards the anchorage area where they were just a week prior. The captain checked the chart for the designated anchorages then using the radar checked which ones were available having not been occupied by another ship. Employing the use of the pilot, the captain asked him to communicate to the port authorities and was able to book an anchor spot he was happy with and able to safely get to.

By the time the ship arrived to the intended spot, evening had turned to night and Michaels time on the MV Woodbridge was at an end. A pilot boat came to pick up the pilot followed shortly by a small work boat for Michael. Being only one person now transferring it was decided not to use the cargo crane however they lowered his luggage over the side with heaving lines onto the small boat below, then Michael followed using the pilot ladder. But before the boat departed the ship's crew chucked down a two hundred cigarette carton to give to the company's port agent as a gift of gratitude for the organisation of sorting out the transfer at unusually short notice.

Half an hour later Michael was back on Turkish soil and led through to the immigration office. Ten minutes later he was driven to a hotel in the city centre right next to one of the grand old mosques. He was told he had a late morning flight direct to Cairo. With that he went straight to bed and didn't bother with dinner.

Early morning arrived and Michael was woken up by the loud speakers of the call to prayer from the mosque.

Michael strained his eyes at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It read half past five.

"Oh for goodness sake" he sighed out then tried to get back to sleep.

He eventually got to sleep for a few more hours before the alarm clock woke him up proper. Getting washed and dress he went downstairs and got breakfast and a big one of that. Full English, bowl of fruit and fibre with a selection of fruit, all washed down with black coffee and orange juice. Then back up to the room to repack his overnight things and just in time with a call from reception to say his taxi had arrived.

After a chaotic drive from the city centre to the airport and listening to the ramblings of the elderly taxi driving complaining about everything he believed to be wrong with modern Turkey, Michael was glad to finally be checking in for the Egypt Air flight to Cairo.

Another hour of waiting in departures and eventually he had boarded the plane and put in an emergency exit seat for the extra legroom. With the dramatic air temperature difference when passing over the land then the sea the turbulence was one of the worst he'd experienced to date. Feeling like going up and down in a roller-coaster. Soon the plane reached its cruising altitude and levelled off.

Two hours later and Michael's flight was descending over Cairo. As the plane banked to the left he caught a fleeting glimpse of the pyramids of Giza, but only a glimpse.

Soon he was on the ground and walking through to customs then he hit a problem. He could see various men all holding up ship names on the international side of the border. Clearly it was obvious that at least at this airport ship's agents escorted crew through immigration. But the problem Michael had was, no one had a sign saying Patagonian Star.

He could see bank kiosks showing they sold visas and queues forming on everyone of them. Now Michael was confused. Was the agent to meet him here or not? Besides it seemed it was only five US dollars for the visa. Nothing that would break the bank, but his paperwork said nothing about it. So he decided he wasn't going to wait around and got in a queue.

Only took a moment before a man to come running up to him calling his name. Michael turned to see this Egyptian man with little hair and a lot of calories.

He explained he was getting cigarettes from duty free but didn't expect it to take so long. Then Michael was escorted through immigration where he had to just stand there in silence as both his agent and the immigration officer spoke only in Arabic.

Michael didn't have a clue what was being said, both people speaking loudly, pointing and jabbing at the paperwork and at each other. Clearly something wasn't right, then suddenly it was fine as Michael now had a visa sticker put on a page in his passport and was cleared. Michael was still confused.

Making his way through to the arrivals hall again he was stopped by an official who appeared seemingly out of nowhere or at least from the bustling crowd.

"Excuse me sir, but do you have any safety shoes in your luggage?" The man in uniform asked.

Michaels suspected a trick being played, no doubt to gain money somehow so he told him he didn't. Then his agent started shouting at the officer again in Arabic, loud and large hand gestures were made then the officer relented and stepped aside.

Half an hour later Michael was in the back of a car and on the motorway heading east out of Cairo on the Suez Road.

After an hour and half of driving through the Egyptian desert and one of the scariest rides he had been outside of a combat situation after seeing numerous road accidents and blatant disregard for basic road safety, Michael's car arrived in Suez pulling up outside what used to like a holiday resort that was constructed fifty years ago.

A young boy, probably the same age as Raf greeted Michael taking his luggage through to reception. After getting a key the boy showed Michael to his room. Coming out of the reception building Michael was lead out the back and along the edge of a large but unoccupied swimming pool which was lined by building with doors leading directly to each room, no communal door. Michael quite liked it. A room straight out to the pool. After showing him which room was his, the boy put his hands out palms facing up. So Michael gave him all twenty Turkish lira that he had on him.

"No American dollar?" The boy asked.

"No, but same as American dollar, Turkish lira, good money" Michael lied, given what was probably no more than a buck or two. Michael knew the score, you give a inch and they will take a yard.

So with that Michael put his bags to one side and locked the room, then went to eat.

As Michael was in the hotel's restaurant, the same official who had stopped him in the airport was standing outside looking in, waiting, watching.

When Michael came to leave the restaurant the man hid himself in the shadows then tailed him back to his room and watched Michael enter his room.

Having a bit of spare time to relax, Michael decided to contact the Autobot base to catch up and it was Jack who he was speaking to with the others on patrol, Arcee manning the ground bridge and Ratchet out back carrying out repairs to the communications equipment.

"So when do you join the ship?" Jack asked.

"You know what, I'm really not sure. I haven't been told much. I checked it's position on the AIS and it's anchored waiting to pass through the canal, so I'd guess I'll be on shortly"

"Then back to Europe?"

"Yeah, stopping in Rotterdam in a week from now then Hamburg and Thamesport then back this way. Tell Elita that I should be able to get shore leave in Rotterdam if she able to meet up"

"Don't worry, I will. Has everything been ok so far. Nothing suspicious happening while you've been away?"

"Why'd you say that? Problems your end?"

"Oh no, no. It's just the con's been quiet lately. We suspect they might be plotting"

"Aren't they always? No I haven't seen anything"

And it was then that Michael glanced out of the window and saw the man looking in.

"What the heck" He said to himself.

"Michael, what is it?" Jack asked.

"Suspicious activity" Was all Michael said as he grabbed the gun from his bag and shoving it in his pocket then flying out the room. He saw the man making a break for it, hugging the edge of the swimming pool, he ran after him seeing the man run between two outbuildings towards the main road. By the time Michael got to the road, just in time to see the fading lights on a car speeding away.

He walked back to his room, reassuring Jack that he was ok, explaining what it was. But before the two could speak further there was a knock on the door.

"Taxi will be here in twenty minutes" A member of the hotel's staff said.

"Sorry Jack, looks like I'm heading for the ship now. I'll call again when I'm all set up on board"

"Sure thing, take it easy" Jack replied before cutting the call his end.

Michael was now sat in the hotel lobby with others also waiting. All sat with the same amount of luggage as him. He checked the time. Over an hour had passed.

"Lying gits" Michael thought to himself.

It wasn't long after that cars arrived and names were called out. Michael was assigned to the second car and found out they were all for the same ship. The other cars for another Seaway Maritime Agency run ship also anchored and waiting to pass the canal.

After a ten mintue drive the cars arrived at a security point at the port entrance. The ship agent asked the crews to stay in the cars for a moment and asked for everyone's passports. After he had them in his hand he was approached by a securtiy guard and started chatting away, leaving the passports on the bonnet on one of the cars.

Michael could only sit and watch.

"Any ideas what we're waiting for?" Michael asked out loud.

"Who knows" Spoke a Bulgarian "All this place is wait, wait, wait. Everything slow here"

And things didn't improve as while the agent and security man were talking amongst themselve they didn't see a random man turn up who appeared drunk who staggered up to the car and picked up the pile of passports.

"What the hell" Michael said climbing out of the car then jumping on the random, yanking back the passports.

"Oiy, what bloody hell are you guys doing!?" Michael roared at the two conversing.

"I've had enough of waiting around, get us to the ship, now" He ordered, his face full of restrained rage.

The two looked at his height and build and decided to stop delaying and get moving.

The crews were asked out the car to walked through a metal detector that wasn't plugged in and gathering rust.

"Unbelievable" Michael thought.

Once they passed the security point they got back into the cars and drove deeper into the port of Suez till they got to the immigration office where one by one they were stood in front of old man in uniform sat by his desk then inspected their passports. Michael felt he was being treated like a criminal. But everything checked out and a stamp was put in his passport, exiting Egypt.

Then from the immigration office they were let straight over to a small work boat. Michael chucked his own luggage on board while a local offered to help the Bulgarian with his bags, only to then ask for money.

"No, no. All you people do ask for money. Money, money, money. Get lost" He shouted before shoving the local in the water, making a big splash.

Once everyone was on board the boat left the breakwater and headed to the anchored ships. But then they approached one that wasn't familiar to any of the crews with their port agent climbing onboard and disappearing for ten minutes. By now Michaels patience was growing thin. Soon enough the port agent came back and the boat was again on its way.

After passing down the side of a VLCC and on passing its stern then it came into sight, the MV Patagonian Star. At three hundred and forty meters long and forty five meters wide it is a giant of the sea. Carrying the cargo of over four thousand trucks or a train nearly two miles long, it was king of moving vast amount of stuff.

As the boat got closer to the black coloured hull, Michael couldn't help but in in awe of the ship's sheer size, being way bigger than any previous ship he'd been on before. And although he understood the concept of ship stability he still found it impressive how something so large and heavy was able to float on water.

But he had to put those thoughts aside as they approached the accommodation ladder that had been lowered for them. Looking up to the upper deck he saw crew lowering ropes down to which the crew in the boat tied to their bags.

As Michael scaled the ladder he saw his mates from college and Miles pointing a camera on him.

"Hey, hey. You finally made it" Warren cheerily said.

"Michael, how do you think you'll ever pass nav if you can't even get to the right ship"

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny" Michael said back going over to help pull up the luggage.

Half an hour later he was introduced to the Chief Officer then shown to his cabin and a large one of that.

He took a moment to connect his phone to the ship's wifi using the instructions left on the desk. After he had a signal he quickly sent a text to Elita.

 _'On board the Patagonian Star. Egypt is crap'_

With the bunk already made up for him, he chucked his bags into one corner, turned off the light and still in his clothes flopped onto the bunk and was out in an instant.

* * *

Author's Note

I just want to say I had so much fun writing this particular chapter. I'll level with you, this is pretty much a retelling of my life when I too made this very same journey, and nearly everything mentioned in this chapter happened to me was for real. Working deep sea certainly had it's moments, wouldn't mind going back out their for another tour or two in the future.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

"I need your passport, discharge book and any certificates you have. I trust you have all your basic ones by now?" Joseph De La Rosa, the Filipino third officer asked.

"Oh yeah, yeah. Definitely" Michael replied still fighting off the fatigue. "Yellow fever certificate and ENG 1 is in their as well" He said as he slid over a pocket file book along the table.

Joseph opened it up and slowly started checking through them and ticking off a check sheet. When he was satisfied he put it to one side then brought to the table the ship's crew agreement list. Essentially a list of all crew onboard listing things like date of birth, nationality and other relevant information if required by port inspections.

Michael wrote down on the list any electronic devices and other valuable items as well, again for the purpose of inspections.

By now the ship had transited the Suez canal and was sailing westward on the Mediterranean sea. When he went to sleep he was only given four hours before he was called up to completed the joining paperwork and went through the usual meet and greet process of boarding a new ship.

So Michael started his familiarisation which was required by all crew no matter the rank before he could start working. So first was the accommodation. Working from the top to the bottom it was all standard. Captain and Chief Engineers cabins on the highest deck directly below the bridge with the senior officers on the next deck followed by the junior officers. Then the remaining decks being made up of the crew. One deck above the main deck was the galley in the center with the officer's mess on the starboard side and the crew mess on the opposite.

A tour of the main deck was all fairly standard too. Once you seen one container ship, you seen them all. Six holds at seven containers deep, and divided up into eighty six bays. Enough space to carry around six thousand truck loads of cargo. Once shown the layout of the deck, with life saving and fire fighting equipment also being pointed out he was shown his way to the engine room.

As he stepped out of the lift into the engine control room Billy Rutter, the engineer cadet greeted him.

"Michael, what can I do for you?" He greeted.

"Hey, yeah. Would you or someone else be able show me around the place?"

"Yeah I can do. You want a coffee?"

"Erm, how about afterwards. Rather get this over with if that's ok with you?"

Billy looked at him for a moment "Yeah sure, no problem at all. Please take one of these, you'll need it" He said passing Michael a pair of ear defenders.

Billy then directed Michael over to the door that lead directly into the engine room itself, Billy having to press his entire body up against it to push back at the greater air pressure on the other side. When he did prise it open, a strong gust of hot air blasted into the control room, paper flapped around, one or two pieces flying around the place. Billy stepped through the door, holding it open for Michael who then carefully closed it behind him without it slamming.

Standing on a metal grating platform Michael could see the very top part of the massive engine that powered the ship.

"Fuel injectors!" Billy shouted into Michael's ear to overcome the sound then made a follow me gesture. Both taking the stairs till they were level with the top layer of the main engine.

It took another four flights of stairs to reach the bottom of the engine, and the vibrations were rattling the whole structure. Billy pointed out the crankshaft with inspection hatches big enough for a person to fit through, almost the size of a small door.

Then next on the tour they went to the aft end where Billy then pointed out the fly wheel that had a five meter diameter connecting to a stupidly big drive shaft two meters wide and made of solid metal.

Directly aft of it, Michael made out what was the thrust bearing. It's job was to translate the thrust generated from the propeller into the keel of the ship. Michael remembered something he remembered from his basic engineering lectures where it was said that without it, the propeller would try to push the engine right through the bow.

After pointing out other parts of the main engine, Billy showed him the purifier room where the fuel was heated and filtered one more time before being injected into the engine. Nothing standing out that he could identify, apart from the foam extinguishers it all just looked like pipes and pumps and electrical switchboards.

Next stop being the generator room which Billy shouted to Michael saying could power a small city.

Working their back near to the control room they entered the workshop which could only be described as an Aladdin's cave for tools, nuts, bolts and machinery. Michael quickly took notice of spanners so large it would probably take two men to lift it and could easily fit around a persons neck.

But they weren't alone as one of the motormen was busy by the grinding wheel who was working the end of a bended piece of pipe. He was a tall man, same height and build as Michael, but that wasn't what Michael noticed at first but instead of the the lack of any safety gear, no face mask, even the safety cover looked to have been bypassed with the spinning disk left exposed.

"Hey, should he be using that? That doesn't look safe to me!" Michael shouted into Billy's ear.

"That's Constantin Ion, he's always like that. Crazy Romanian. He's been told by the chief time and time again to stop doing that. So I wouldn't bother trying, he won't listen. Hey, you sure you don't have a cousin? He looks just like you"

Before heading back out a quick walk around the other parts that didn't have a compartment of their own, the fresh water generator, sewage treatment and various water, fuel and ballast pumps.

When back in the control room the two went over to the coffee table where Billy got the machine going as Michael stretched out on the bench seat.

"So go on, tell me the stats. That's way bigger than any ship I've been on, especially the one I just got off"

"Yeah, what happened with that anyway? Sent you to the wrong ship? Sounds like a load of bollocks if you ask me. Besides the company made a whole deal about sending all four of us here. That's really strange that. You sure you haven't pissed someone off"

Michael laughed slightly uncomfortably "Why would you say that. Just an admin error. Got to be"

"Yeah, sure. So anyway the main engine is a prototype"

"Prototype?"

"Yeah, it's the Warstilla 14rt Flex 96c. Its the new engine that will go into Mearsk's new Triple E class they have designed"

"I've heard of this type. But whats special about it?"

"To put it simply, there doing away with a lot of mechanical parts and replace them with electronics. For instants the timing shaft. No more timing cams. So a computer controls the injectors and valves. So we can make fine adjustments to how the engine burns its fuel. So for example we can make it inject more fuel for extra power, or inject less for economy. There's also the flow of consumable lube oils to deal with as well, especially if we're burning high sulphur fuels to counter the acid build up in the cylinders. Stuff like that"

"How much power?"

"Eighty thousand kilowatts or just over one hundred thousand horsepower. But what does that mean? Just a number right. Well the temperature in the machinery space is around forty degrees, which is all generated from the heat the engine produces, heat loss amounts to about one percent of total power wastage"

"Wow, that's a lot of power. Care to show me the steering flat in a bit?"

From the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean sea to the dry arid desert of Nevada was the town of Jasper where the day was ending for the students. The three kids left together making their way over to their respective Autobot guardians. While Miko and Raf were in a rush, Jack found himself at a much slower pace, his mind elsewhere. He took another look at the leaflet in his hand before putting it back in his pocket.

"Hey Jack, how was school?" Arcee asked as Jack stepped alongside her vehicle form.

"Hey Arcee. Yeah I was ok I guess?"

"You sound unsure of yourself there Jack. You sure your ok?" Arcee asked concerned.

It was then that Jack brought himself together, rapidly shaking his head "No, no. I'm fine, really. Don't worry about it. It's nothing, really" He said as he mounted the motorcycle and placing his helmet on.

"Well if you say so" Arcee replied before heading back to the Autobot base.

But even while at the base his mind wandered. While Raf was working away on his laptop and Miko was conversing with Bulkhead, Jack was still thinking about what he was told during the day and the information given to him.

"Come on Jack. What's bothering you?" Arcee said leaning up to the railing.

"Just thinking about my future. Career wise that is. That's all"

"Don't see it being in the fast food industry then?" She joked.

"Army recruiters visited the school today" Jack spoke, ignoring Arcee's rare display of simple humour "It got me thinking. I mean I'm already in dangerous situations all the time-"

"Which I wish wouldn't happen I might add" Arcee interrupted.

"Yeah, but I wondered if I could do more to help. Work with Special Agent Fowler on the task force or something like that"

"I don't want you to feel that you would need to do anything to help us fight the Con's at all. Doing what I can to keep you safe is reason enough to say you help us"

Jack hung his head slightly, thinking he may have been looking at the whole thing in the wrong way.

"But it is your life and I won't stop you from doing what you want to do" Arcee said, making Jack look up at her face again, a small smile formed.

"Looks like we may have a problem here" Raf said out loud to no one in particular or rather to everyone present.

"What'd you find, Raf?" Jack asked walking over to him. Arcee following along the rail making a note to speak with June about their small conversation.

"A conspiracy theorist website. And its got photo's of the bots" Was Raf's reply

"Ok, but that's nothing new. Why not just scrub them with internet meme's as usual?" Jack said.

"Take a look for yourself" Was all Raf said twisting the laptop round for Jack to see.

"Oh scrap" Jack said before picking it up then showing Arcee. At first she didn't understand. A shot of herself in her vehicle mode but with no apparent rider. She tilted her head one way then another, then she saw it.

"Wait, is that..."

"Just a mile from here? Yes" Jack remarked.

With Optimus out on patrol and Arcee being his second in command, that left her in charge on the base, she didn't need to think twice at what to do, or consult the Prime.

"Get Fowler on the phone right now" Arcee commanded Ratchet who had overheard the whole thing.

The following day, the sky was clear and sun was baking the ground causing the temperate to rise to a sweltering heat, just like every other day.

Along the main street a middle age man was driving his old beat up Ford F250. He turned off into a car park of a local supermarket. Just a regular Joe going to do some grocery shopping.

As he parked up and walked into the store the black Crown Vic belonging to Special Agent Fowler pulled into the same car park. He parked up a slight distance from the pick-up then when the man disappeared inside Fowler calmly walked over and inspected the truck.

The thing showed its age, dirt caked on and pitted with small dents from tiny bits of rock hitting the metal, there was signs it had been hit lightly by another car at some point on the passenger door as the much larger dent would testify. While not much could be said for the interior other than being tired, nonetheless still clean and tidy.

After checking it over Fowler stepped round to the rear and placed a simple GPS tracker under the rear bumper then calmly walked back to his car and got in then pulled away. Pretty simple job for a former army ranger.

After a few more long slow hours Fowler tracked the signal to a location well outside Jasper towards the hills and mesa's in the north. The tyres on the Crown Vic rolled along the flattened dirt track which led him towards the sight of a trailer which the F250 was parked next to.

Fowler stopped for a moment to look around and saw that nothing was apparent in sight. Just as the Agent had suspected, a crazy loon all alone with nothing better to do than to chase 'the truth'.

Fowler put the car in drive and slowly approached the trailer, the stones crushing under the tyres till the car was a few yards away. He put the car in park and killed the engine. As he stepped out and into the ever rising heat he loosened his tie and walked up to the trailer's door and knocked.

'Crunch crunch'

Fowler heard it and dive to the side just before two shotgun slugs blew the door to smithereens.

As he scrambled back to his car to take cover the man came out the doorway wielding a pump action shotgun.

"Federal Agent, drop your weapon!" Fowler ordered.

"Stay back you fed, I've got my first and second amendment rights! The government can't hide them forever, the world will soon know!" Shouted the man before firing again at Fowler.

Knowing that he wasn't going to be able to reason with the man, Fowler retreated back into his car, slammed it into reverse and floored it before the man could get another shot off.


	8. Chapter 8

"Maas Approach, Maas Approach. Patagonian Star, call-sign Delta Five Bravo X-ray Seven, calling on channel one, receiving over?"

"Patagonian Star, I see you there on radar, pass report over"

"Good afternoon sir, Patagonian Star inbound for pilot station with ETA of one hour from now. Current position is two five miles at bearing two one zero from pilot station. Our destination is the Europoort APM Terminal two, maximum draft is twelve point seven meters and carrying IMO class dangerous cargo. Is there any information on pilot boarding time at the moment?"

After a short pause "Patagonian Star this is Maas Approach, thank you for the report. Expected delay to your pilot boarding time due to technical difficulties with the helicopter and pilot will be boarding by boat at sixteen thirty. Pilot ladder on port side and one meter above the water is requested. Two tugs are on standby and will make fast once in the fairway. Traffic information, MSC Sophie ahead of you in for APM Terminal five, the Coral Leader leader following in for Broekman five berth. Two vessels outbound Mearsk Shanghai and Hyundai Neptune will be keeping to the north as they depart, Over"

"All copied, Patagonian Star Out"

"Damn, no helicopter then?" Miles said still recording Michael who had yet to put the radio handset back in its holder.

"Nope, just the plain old pilot boat approach. Maybe next time when we depart we'll get the chopper"

Before Miles could say something back the bridge telephone rang which Michael picked up.

"Bridge, cadet speaking... ok thanks chief" He then looked over his shoulder "Sec, chief engineer confirms now on diesel fuel and can start speed reduction in fifteen minutes"

"Okay, thank you Michael" The second officer, Petrašin Drobnjak said from behind by the chart table who was busy completing the latest chart corrections.

"Make sure that camera of yours is all charged up Miles. Things are about to get a bit busy round here" Michael said then showing a Cheshire cat grin directly at the camera and laughing it off stepping away from it before the Miles hit the stop button.

Within the next hour, the ship's main engine went through its load down program gradually reducing its speed till it reached the pilot station. Then with a strong enough tide and facing into it, the vessel held its position without the need to anchor as it waited for the pilot boat.

With the time passing four in the afternoon it was the end of Michael's watch and he got himself ready for deck operations, once again in a dark blue boilersuit, steel toecap boots and a white hard hat.

Going out on deck with the rest of the deck crew they got to work rigging up the pilot ladder which compared to the bulk carrier he was on a short time ago was simpler to rig. The rope ladder was stowed on a roller which was a matter of winching out and lowering an accommodation ladder as the second half due to international regulations banning rope ladders being more than nine meters in height. Then a short amount of waiting and sure enough a white and yellow pilot boat approached coming from ahead then swinging round to line up with the ship then closing in slowly as it matched the ships own course and speed. Then when it was finally alongside the pilot stepped off the boat and grabbed hold of the ladder and climbed his way up. Being met by De La Rosa and a hand shake he was escorted up to the bridge while the deck crew re stowed the ladder.

Then the crew split in two, going to either end of the ship with Michael joining the forward party with Warren going with the aft party. After taking a long walk up to the fo'c'sle the first thing they did was to raise the guillotines and detach the devil's claws from the anchor's leaving only the brake to hold them so they were ready for dropping in an emergency.

Then the next few minutes were spent getting the winches started up and the ropes flaked out on the deck.

As the last rope was laid out on the deck the tugs arrived. The first one carried on past headed for the stern while the other held position in front letting the bow on the large ship come to it, and just as it looked like it was about to be run over it went astern matching speed with one of the crew members on board coming out of the wheelhouse and out on deck.

The chief officer gave Michael the task of controlling the operation of making the tug fast to the ship handing him the heaving line. Michael took no time in coiling up the rope in his hand then split in two with a eighty twenty split with most in his right hand. He looked down and saw the tugman point out the open deck indicating where he wanted the heaving line to go. Michael then as hard as he could threw the rope overhand letting the monkey's fist fly out taking the rest of rope with it and watched as it almost fell short but hit the deck on the tug. The tugman tied it to the end of their towing rope and signalled for it to be pulled up. Michael then directed the crew to wrap the heaving line around the drum end on a winch to start heaving till the eye of the towing rope was onboard, Michael then used his foot to push the rope over the bit then the crew let it slide onto it. Then to complete to the operation Michael then told to the tugman that they were made fast with the universal crossed arm signal.

The next hour they just sat back and watched as they approached the land with the ship eventually entering the main channel into Rotterdam. The ship made a tight turn to starboard into Europoort then watched as the tugs then wrestle the ship into a one eighty then pull it astern to its berth then help push it to the quayside. Then it was all action again for the crew as heaving lines were thrown then mooring ropes were allowed to violently fly through fairleads as gravity pulled them down the water where the linesman ashore pulled them up to the bollards. Ropes were heaved it till they snapped tight with tonnes of force. Within fifteen minutes the ship was safe alongside and the tugs were let go.

By the time they were done, people had already started coming on board from the ship's agent to customs officers and loading foremen making the deck office a suddenly a very busy a chaotic place.

The evening was drawing in so Michael decided it would be best to get some rest as he had planned to take some shore leave the next day.

The Patagonian Star had arrived in The Netherlands.

"This is Phil Kavanagh" Fowler said addressing to everyone present at the Autobot base including June and Rear Admiral Baines who was asked to come in.

"He's a bit of conspiracy nut. Former air force pilot who left due to medical discharge back in nineteen eighty nine. The story is while stationed in Arizona he spotted a UFO while on a training exercise. The thing became an obsession for him and couldn't let it go. Now he spends most of his days still trying to find the truth, believing the government to be hiding aliens"

"Yeah, because we all know that's crazy, as if there are aliens being hidden from the public" Jack joked while smirking at Arcee.

"But there are many people around with mental problems that think the same thing... too many" June said "So what makes this one different?"

"Because he took these photo's just a few miles here" Raf said as he put up the photos of the Autobots coming and going, the most notable being that of Arcee with no rider.

"Okay, so we just put in funny cats as we always do, so what's the problem?" Miko asked.

"Because he probably has more photo's and will know we're onto him" Raf said.

"Well I went to speak with him and I got a face full of bullets in response" Fowler said.

"Are you ok" June asked with concern starting to step over with the intention of checking him over.

"I'm fine, really" Fowler said putting his hand up to June before she got any closer.

The admiral who had been leaning against the railing up to this point stepped forward "So, he's just your typical Republican supporter then?" He said.

Every human in the base stared at him in stunned shock.

"What? It was a joke. Besides where I'm from all Republicans look a bit mad politically"

No one spoke.

"It's just British humour. Don't tell me you lot can't take a joke?"

Silence descended across the base for a few moments.

"Well anyway, we need a different approach and we need to be careful because it would seem that he's now more determined then ever in his quest because he has now got my face on his website"

Fowler then put up on the big screens the said web page showing a photo of Fowler as he approached the trailer in the desert. The photo being followed by a short article underneath about how the US government had sent their 'men in black' to silence him and to keep the truth covered up.

"Well I'm guessing by different approach you mean to include me on this? Why else would you have asked me to come in?" Baines asked.

"Well you sometimes deal with troubling members of the public, I was hoping that you would take the lead on this one" Fowler responded.

The alarm clock in Michaels cabin went off denoting it was eight in the morning. He had completed his first four hour watch in the early hours and got as much sleep as he could before going on shore leave. After a quick shave and a shower he made his way down a deck to the mess room where Billy and Damon where already at the table getting through omelettes. Michael took a seat as the steward came round and served his breakfast.

"How are we this morning guys?" Michael asked.

"Well we both had a good nights kip, though the bad news is later the chief engineer wants to do a crankcase inspection" Billy said.

"So guess who's going into the oil sump to clean up?" Damon finished.

Michael laughed with glee "Oh man, sucks to be you right now. I knew choosing to be a window licker was the right career choice"

It was then when Warren walked in, still in his overalls and boots. He looked worn out and his face was a mess. Covered in dust and rust particles, he was in need of a shower soon.

"Ooh, you better take a sit down pal, rest your weary legs from all that standing around" Damon spoke sarcastically getting up and pulling out a chair for him to which Warren feigned great relief to get off his feet by throwing himself down.

"How's it looking out there?" Michael asked.

"Still on five cranes. They've already finished on bay ten would you believe it? At the moment they're discharging from the deck of bays twelve, twenty two, forty four, fifty eight and sixty two when I finished"

"Busy port here in Rotterdam. They move fast" Michael said "So what are you guys planning on doing then?"

"Doing some sight seeing was the main plan. You coming?" Billy said.

"Nah, I've visited Rotterdam before. I was thinking of doing a supply run mostly. I know a place not far from here that I have in mind"

An hour later the four of them had signed out in the shore leave log and made their where way down the accommodation ladder onto dry land where they saw the sight of the future as all the trucks going around the port had no drivers, nor were even articulated but rather four wheel steering flatbed robots that transferred containers from the large overhead gantry cranes that spanned the ships over to the stacking cranes which put the boxes into storage till further transport came to take them out of the port and vice versa.

The port of Rotterdam's container terminal was for the most part entirely automated leaving only the stevedores and gantry crane drivers being the only boots on the ground as the workforce of the port was concerned.

The four cadets walked strictly to the painted out path leading to the port gate. While the robotic trucks were fitted with radar and overly large bumpers they didn't want to take there chances on getting hit by them. But in fifteen minutes they got to the security post without a scratch.

One by one they entered the small building and showed their company ID and passports which was recorded by security and were shown the door leading to the other side of the security perimeter and then officially entered the Netherlands.

Looking at an empty road leading away with little in sight but flat green land with industrial estates a few miles away it was Damon who spoke first.

"Well, I guess we better call for a taxi then" He said.

It was then that the light pink Honda S2000 that was Elita came racing down the road and rolling up by the four.

"Well you guys can call a taxi if you want, but looks like my ride has arrived" Michael said as he jumped in on the passenger side as the window rolled down.

The other three leaned down to take a look at the driver and saw Elita's hologram smiling back.

"Hi boys, had a safe voyage here?" She asked.

"Indeed madam" Billy said then looking at Michael with a smirk.

"Family friend. She was in the area so I arranged to meet up. You've always got to plan ahead when it comes to shore leave. I'll see you crazy kids later" Michael grinned. Elita then took off down the road, her rear wheels kicking up dirt as she went.

The remaining three were left standing there dumbfounded and stared at it each other

"We're doing something wrong" Billy said.

"Family friend, my arse" Was what Warren has to say smiling but shaking his head.

After they cleared some distance Elita dropped the hologram.

"So how was your trip in the Black Sea?"

"Oh, don't go there. Turns out they sent me the email not to get on the plane thirty minutes after it took off. Can you believe it? Well it wasn't all a complete waste of time. Managed to make a few reports on bulk carrier operations. Should help thicken the operations workbook"

"Well as long as you got something out of it that's all that matters"

"Got to see the pyramids of Giza as well just before landing in Cairo. All of half a second that is, that was cool I guess"

"So, where are we headed for?"

"It's as I said. I need to do a supply run. The bond store on board is quite bare at the moment and the steward says there isn't much in it even when it is full. There's a duty free seafarers store in a place called Botlek. I like to get some shopping done it that's ok with you?"

"That perfectly fine by me. Its just nice to see you again"

"Likewise, and thanks for doing this"

After a few minutes Michael had been glancing at Elita's side mirrors and couldn't help to notice that their was a dark coloured car that seemed to be following them. Elita picked up on this adjusting her rear view mirror to better look at her charge.

"Something bothering you?" She asked.

"I think we might have a tail" He said hesitantly.

"I'm glad you said that, I was beginning to think I was just being paranoid. Are you armed?"

"I'm afraid not. Didn't think I would be needing it"

"No matter, hold tight" She said as she dropped a gear and floored it, shoving Michael right back into the seat.


End file.
